Stranger
by omggcece
Summary: Jade West is a normal seventeen year old. . .until one day, she is not. / Or Jade and Freddie were not looking to fall in love. Set in the 1930s to 1940s.
1. Summer Bride

_In 1931, Jade West is a normal seventeen year old girl-until one day she is not. It's at dinnertime when her Father tells her she is to be married too a boy two years older. Jade's mother fights to hold back tears and their hired help look just like they always do. . .emotionless. Her Father opens the door and then, walks in. . ._

_Freddie Benson._

_Jade recognizes him instantly; she has seen many of his silent films and he was one of the first to star in those new ones with sound. Freddie is only nineteen but he has many bags under his eyes and looks like he is carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders._

_Jade wants to protest. She wants to tell her Father that it's the 1930s and America is far past arranged marriages, but she's simply too shocked to say anything. That, and Freddie really wasn't that bad looking._

"_Jade is only nineteen! Why are you making her marry so early?" Jade's Mother asks in her thick British accent. She squeezes her lips together to avoid saying more. They all know if she says too much, even with Freddie there, her Father will reach across the table and slap her across the face._

"_You and Jade know I'm going off to war. Freddie will take care of her. America is to dangerous of a place for two young women," he replies._

_It's only two months before they're married._

_The wedding is elaborate and very expensive; Jade's dress is custom made, there are ten bridesmaids (most of whom Jade does not even know) and pretty much anyone who's anyone shows._

_When she gets to the altar, she's made up her mind too not say those two little words that will change her life but all it takes is once glance at her Father's red face and Jade doesn't even realize that her lips are moving:_

"_I do."_

_._

_._

_._

_._

_July 23__rd__, 1931_

"You're a summer bride," my mother whispers.

We're sitting in front of my mirror and she's braiding my hair. It is black and so long it reaches my waist. My hair is very hard to braid since it's so long and thick, but my mother always manages to get it braided. I like to remind her one of the help could do it but she's very stubborn-just like me.

"My mother, back in Britain before I married your father, braided my hair. That's why I like to do it. . .it's been twenty years since I saw her. Twenty long years."

I can feel her hands shaking as she strokes my arm.

"I won't let this Freddie guy make any of our children marry someone they don't want too. You didn't want to marry Father and I didn't want to marry Freddie," I say angrily.

Mother gasps. "Jade, Mr. Benson is your husband. You need to refer too him properly. And, yes, my marriage was arranged. But I got you out of it! You're the best bloody thing to happen in my life, okay?"

I smirked, something I didn't like to do in front of her because she always scolded me for being un ladylike. "I can't believe you just cursed."

We laughed for a few minutes before another serious question came up in my head.

"Mother. . .Fr-I mean, Mr. Benson is only nineteen. But Father was thirty-eight when you married him and you were only sixteen. Were you disgusted? And why did you have too marry him?"

"I'll admit it, you tell no one what I'm about to say, you hear? I was gob smacked." Mother laughed bitterly, toying with her wedding ring. It was rare to hear her use British terms since Father hated "British talk" so much. I liked her when she was relaxed.

She took a deep breath before she answered my second question. "In the mid-1800s until about 1902 my family was very rich. We were one of the most powerful British families. . .we had many companies and such. But one day, all of us were taking a stroll and then-all of the sudden, then, my father was on the ground.

He was bleeding profusely. He had been shot in the heart, and sadly my father died almost instantly. Me, my mother, and little sister were so caught up in our grief the murderer got away. My mother, she couldn't even read and besides that, she was a woman. All of the sudden we were poor and useless. But one day my mother came home talking about a powerful, rich American family seeking a beautiful, foreign wife. The West family thought I was beautiful and we were married before I could blink."

I tried not to gasp or seem like I pitied my Mother; even though she was more composed and feminine, she was headstrong and not very emotional like me.

"Oh, Mother," I whispered after a while. There was a lump in my throat.

"Don't worry about what happened to me. You have a husband waiting in there, for you. You just got married, my dear. . .don't look at me like that. I'll still be in this house, ready to comfort you whenever you shall need me. Your father has good intentions."

Trying to hide my anger, I gritted my teeth, slowly getting up from the stool I had been sitting on.

I had been literally forced into a scandalous looking nightgown that only reached mid-thigh. All of the maids (and Mother) had said Freddie would love it, but I did not care what he thought no matter what they or my family tried to brainwash me with.

I hadn't fallen in love with this Freddie and I didn't want to be with him. . .definitely not in a sexual manner. It made my stomach turn just thinking about it.

Freddie was very awkward. All he ever talked about was politics and war and what he'd do if he was running this country. Also, he was always telling me too get him a sandwich and call him Mr. Benson like a proper lady.

I didn't care if he beat my head into a wall or slapped me across the face.

He ruined my life and I wasn't going too back down.

"Stop scowling. We will not be doing anything tonight. I'm tired. I just want to sleep and you don't look too peachy yourself."

I couldn't help it, my jaw dropped like one of those puppet things and my eyes widened.

Freddie laid on the bed, one of his well toned arms hanging off the side of the mattress.

Had I been denied? I thought for sure he would hit on me and try too bed me, especially with the lingerie I was wearing. But no! He had just flopped on the bed.

"Did you deny me, just now?" I whispered into the darkness. He had cut the lights off.

"What's wrong, wife? Do you want too be with me?" He chuckled and I could hear him shift in the bed.

Freddie was already killing me.

"I'm fine, Fr - Mr. Benson." I managed to choke that out, sucking my teeth too keep myself from saying something I'd regret.

"Then sleep, dear."

I blinked before I threw aside the covers and laid down. What else could I do?

I flipped on too my side, curling into myself so I could be as far away from him as possible.

.

.

.

**A/N: Weelll, I hope you liked it! This will be my new chaptered fic, set -obviously- in the 1930s-1940s. It will span lots of time and most likely be a little longer than my usual chapter fics sooo stay with me, okay? XD Jade and Freddie don't like each other very much right now but they'll warm up too each other. . .especially after what'll happen too Freddie next chapter/what Jade will learn Freddie went through ;)**


	2. Caught

_That morning she knew something. . .wasn't right._

_Skipping combing her hair or changing out of her nightgown, she flung aside the covers and looked around._

_Her husband was not in the bed._

_It was getting harder to breathe; their bedroom was oddly chilly. Jade could hear odd, moaning sounds. . .someone was screaming. A woman._

_._

_._

_._

_August 3__rd__, 1931_

"Mr. Benson. . .Mr. Benson. . ." My voice trailed off, and I tried to keep my anger at bay. I hoped Mother didn't wake up. With all the stress from my father talking about a World War and things like that. . .she didn't need to get involved in this.

"Mr. Benson." I said his name once again. When I didn't get an answer yet again I lost control.

I started running through the halls of my house; I could hear the sound of my heavy breathing in my ears. I had reached the front door when I tripped over my gown to be caught by. . .Mr. Benson.

"What - what are you doing out of bed?" He asked me, like I had done something wrong. He took hold of my wrist and started dragging me back to the bedroom.

"Let go of me! Where were you? Why did I hear those noises?" I was screaming now. I didn't care about waking my mother up. Even though we had both been forced into this marriage and didn't love each other - we'd been married for almost a month now & we still hadn't kissed - that didn't give Freddie permission to cheat on me!

"Jade, calm down. Go back to bed." He pushed me into the room and locked the door behind him. "I'll be in the shower. Please stop screaming before you wake your mother. Mrs. West already had to cook dinner last night since you refused too."

Only after I heard the shower running did I start to calm down. I wiped the tears that were forming in my eyes as I rationalized with myself. If he had been somewhere in the house with another woman, he wouldn't make sense for him to open the front door. But why had I heard those noises. . .

And then I heard a noise again. It was a woman screaming.

I turned around again to make sure Freddie was still in the shower before I took a hairpin out of my drawer and picked the lock.

I was going to find out where those noises were coming from.

My instincts led me to the closet were our maids kept their cleaning supplies. Yes, this was the source of the noise. I could barely think when I pulled opened the closet door and a woman was there.

She was extremely attractive. . .hair down to her waist, a waist that was very small. Her eyes were almost cartoon like, they were stretched so wide, and she couldn't be more than 16.

"Talk. Now." Even I was surprised at how calm I sounded. Though my fingernails were digging into my hands so hard I could draw blood, and my breathing was heavy.

The mystery girl just stared at me.

"I said talk."

She stuttered out, her hands shaking, "A-are you Mr. Benson's. . .wife?"

"I'm asking the questions!" I snapped my fingers in her face. I was losing patience.

"Okay. I'm sleeping with your husband. If you pleasured him or were attractive enough to bed him I wouldn't have-"

I slapped her, so hard there was a red mark on her cheek. I dropped to my knees and grabbed the collar of her dress.

"Why are you here?"

"I-I thought you weren't home!" She was scared now. Good.

"What were you doing before I woke up? You better answer me!"

"He answered the door, and told me to leave before you woke up. Then I. . .then I kissed him. But when he heard you calling his name he told me too hide and went outside. Mr. Benson said he was going to pretend he hadn't been home. . ."

I had never been so angry.

"Tell me your name. And where you work."

She looked like she was going to refuse, so I moved my hands from her collar to her neck.

"Tell me! Then you can go."

"My name is Leann, and I'm an actress!"

"Are you working on a movie? What's it called?"

"The Girl He Met in Georgia. . ."

"You'll be fired by tomorrow, mark my word. Have a nice day," I spat as I let go of her neck. Leann shakily got to her feet and then - Mr. Benson, with perfect timing, showed up in front of us.

"Jade, I told you too -" He stopped short. His mouth fell open. He dropped the script he had been holding.

"You will never be bedding me again! Your wife is crazy!" Leann pushed past him and sashayed out the house.

"That's right. You got caught." My voice was still scarily quiet. I sat on the floor, staring Mr. Benson straight in the eye for what felt like hours.

"I. Hate. You."

It was completely silent as I walked away.


	3. Beck

_Jade and Freddie barely talked too each other. Their newly formed marriage was one without love. And what's a marriage without love?_

_The two of them only talked to say things like "Pass the salt"; Jade's mother noticed the tension between them, and couldn't help but be worried. But what could she do? Jade was now twenty-three years old, Freddie twenty-four. It seemed like only yesterday it was the summer and Jade was getting married. With many changes happening in America, Mrs. West felt it was getting more and more important for them to at least tolerate each other. . ._

_September 1937_

I stared at my still full plate; I know my mother is worried about me and my well-being, but I just. . .wasn't in the mood for eating. I haven't been in the mood for eating for a while now. I was very skinny nowadays and my eyes had permanent bags under them. Mr. Benson was studying me intensely. Tonight was one of the rare times he was around for dinner - most of the time he was with one of his female "friends" or filming a movie.

I liked it better when he wasn't home. When that bastard's eyes weren't dissecting me like an animal.

"I can't eat," I stated flatly. My mother sighed, standing up from the table.

"You look sick, my dear. I'll wash the dishes and you go to sleep." She patted my head before picking up all of our plates and heading to the kitchen.

Mr. Benson frowned. "Are you sick? You know, I haven't been home much. . ." His eyes narrowed. "I'm still in the middle of shooting my new movie, I can't be getting a cold. I-"

"It's always you, you, you! All you care about is _yourself. _I wish you would shut up and leave me alone! Don't even look at me, I hate you so much I don't even want you looking at me!" I looked away, a blush forming against my will. I had been fighting a losing battle, trying to be more mature and "lady like" - my immaturity was what made me lose my ex-boyfriend Beck Oliver; if I hadn't broken up with Beck, I would have been married to him right now. . .instead of the bastard I was with right now. The bastard. It perfectly described Freddie, and had a nice little ring to it.

My mother coughed, walking back into the dining room with wide eyes. I couldn't hold back a sigh. I knew she had heard everything and there would be a lecture later tonight once The Bastard went too bed.

"So, Mr. Benson, I heard the movie industry is booming right now?" She asked tentatively. She shot me a glare that made me feel like I was twelve years old all over again.

"Oh, yes," The Bastard smirked, obviously happy about being able too talk about himself. "You know, during these hard times, people want to escape from their struggles and loose themselves in a good film. Families like us. . .we'll never deal with this 'depression'. Thank Lord Almighty for our good fortune!" He chuckled, downing yet another glass of alcohol. I grimaced. He was even more insufferable with the help of alcohol - he tended to act like a five year old, and always drunk to the point of being sick.

The door banged shut, and my father also known as the bane of my existence came stomping in. He was waving around several newspapers. "I'm telling you, there will be another World War! America needs to get the other countries before they get us!"

Me and mother shot each other knowing looks, trying to keep our faces blank. For years Father had talked of another World War; I personally think he's delusional and wants to relive his glory days from fighting in World War I. He had quieted for a while, but now that the President had made that speech about that other nations must work to 'quarantine' international aggression. . .or something like that father had gotten enthusiastic all over again.

"There's a war with the Japanese and the Chinese, and a war in Europe. All around the world. . .there is conflict. . .we will not be able to stay away from it much longer, I am telling you!" Father patted my 'husband' who had stayed oddly quiet the whole time on the back, causing him to choke on the second plate of food my mother had given him. "and when the war does start, I will be there defending my beautiful country. You'll be right next to me, right Benson?"

He nodded, giving a half-hearted handshake to my father. "I guess so, Mr. West. . .but how come you are so, may I say, excited at the prospect of war?"

"Mr. West fought in the first World War and enjoyed the excitement, that much I can remember from the letters I was sent. Even though I was scared half to death of what would happen if he died while away and left me all alone with my dear Jade," Mother said in a clipped tone. I could tell she was already scared again at the mere thought of Father going away to war again.

The Depression was in full effect, and the working class and un-educated were suffering greatly. The very rich like us. . .weren't. But if the men went away and something happened, me and my mother would be just like them. Mother was un-educated, but I was very bright - I was fluent in French and had always received high praise when I was younger from my tutors. But, again, the only job I could probably get was a teacher. . .it wasn't like women could become president or anything like that. Not too long ago had we even been allowed to _vote._

"Jade. . .Jade!"

My eyes widened and I snapped my head up, caught off guard. Another bad habit of mine, aside from my bad temper? Daydreaming. I sighed. "Yes, Freddie?" I knew my mother preferred when I called him Mr. Benson too be 'proper' but I wasn't in the mood to further feed his ego.

"I said I'm going to bed. Are you coming? I would like you too," he said gently, and I almost gagged. This was the nicest he had been to me, _ever._

I was silent for a while, trying to figure out why he was being so nice.

"Don't mess up this marriage. There's a reason I married you off to a film star!" Father called out. Mother slapped a hand over her face.

"Uhm. . .sure, I guess."

.

.

.

I had changed into my silk nightgown, my favorite; it was black. Actually, all of my clothes were black. After I had picked up a piece of drawing paper and began cutting it with the new pair of scissors I bought yesterday.

Ah, there was nothing like cutting with fresh scissors - it instantly brightened my day. I heard a low chuckle and tried not to roll my eyes. I knew that damned chuckle.

"_Yes, _Freddie?" I hoped he could hear my thinly veiled hate.

He climbed into the bed next to me, laying close. _Way _too close. I narrowed my eyes.

"Jade, I am a twenty-four year old man. Soon I'll be twenty-five. I have _needs. _For two months now I haven't been with any other women. . ." He raised his eyebrows. He coughed. He folded his hands. Was he expecting me too throw myself into his arms and yell, "_Take me now!_"?

"Yay. You've been faithful for two months. You deserve a husband of the year award," I replied dryly. His mouth dropped open and he was about to protest when I cut him off by walking out of our bedroom, slamming the door behind me.

I walked too the kitchen, being as quiet as possible. The phone trembled in my hands and I felt a sense of adrenaline I didn't get often. I dialed his number automatically, willing myself to stop being such a wimp. Freddie called other women all the time; why couldn't I call a former lover? Yes, there was nothing wrong with this.

"Well, I certainly didn't think Mrs. Freddie Benson would be calling me anymore," he said, chuckling.

"Beck," I choked out. I could barely breathe. "Can I come over?"


End file.
